Have the RSAP [Renoir Sucks at Painting] members ever truly looked at Renoir’s Dance at Bougival in the Boston MFA? A raffish guy swings a lovely girl—Suzanne Valadon, the artist’s model and mistress, and later a distinguished painter herself—at a summertime outdoor café, redolent of heat, music, smells, and light sweats of exertion and desire. Cigarette butts litter the floor at their feet. This is no candy-box fantasy. It is the real life of real people in a real place, glorified. Modernity is dawning. There’s a beat to it, and a glow. (http://www.newyorker.com/culture/cultural-comment/hating-renoir-is-just-a-phase) David Hockney mentions Renoir's cigarette butts: https://www.nowness.com/series/cigarettes-with-david-hockney/even-the-butts-on-the-floor